


Liz Lemon: Her Meat, Her Men

by Sophrosune (polishmyarmor)



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: F/M, Yuletide!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 18:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polishmyarmor/pseuds/Sophrosune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of Liz Lemon and Jack Donaghy, with complications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liz Lemon: Her Meat, Her Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [august](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=august).



As Liz began to slice her Stouffer's microwavable meatloaf into non-Heimlich inducing chunks, she heard a knock at her door. She sighed at the interruption, trudged towards the door, and looked through the peep hole.

"Don't bother stashing the Slankie, Lemon—it's me."

Liz opened the door for Jack Donaghy. "It's cold in here."

"Sure, and you don't need to take this off to go to the bathroom."

Liz frowned knowingly down at her white Slankie. "What do you want?"

"I…wanted to talk." Jack walked over to the sofa. "I brought you an assortment of deli meats. Will you just dip your face into it, or would you like to pretend you use a fork?"

"No pretending here." Liz picked up a handful of ham and began to munch it merrily as she sat down on the sofa next to Jack.

"Lemon, I have a problem."

"What, did John McCain make fun of your hair again?"

"Don't be ridiculous, my hair is perfect. No, it's about you."

"What's up?"Liz replied through her second handful of meat.

"I need for you to attend the NBC/Universal/GE microwave oven benefit with me tomorrow night."

"Why me?"

"My date cancelled, something to do with being on tour. Shakira can be surprisingly inflexible at times."

"Well, do I have to get dressed up?"

"Do you mean can you come in looking like the softer side of Sears? No. You need to dress like a woman for this—and not the kind that props their house up on bricks."

Liz just stared at him with an open mouth full of ham.

"So you understand. Good. I'll pick you up at eight." And with that, Jack showed himself out of Liz's apartment.   
***  
As Liz stepped off the elevator, Jack approached.

"There you are; I thought I smelled mustard."

"It was only two hot dogs," Liz replied as she attempted to wipe mustard off the front of her purple sweater.

"So I see you're only counting the ones that you ate after you got off the subway."

"How did you…"

"I always know, Lemon." Jack and Liz were walking quickly down the hallway, through the TGS studio. "Now, have you found something to wear yet?"

"What exactly does one wear to a microwave oven gala?"

"This is not just any microwave oven gala, Lemon. This is the microwave oven gala of the year. This is our chance to stick it to Kenmore and their We've Got The Heat benefit concert. It's going to be big. It's going to be classy. And it's going to show them that they can come up with as many catchy all-star jingles about convection heat as they want, GE will always reign supreme." Jack's voice had become more and more gravelly as he spoke. As Liz turned to look at him, she was interrupted.

"Ms. Lemon, there's a Mr. Turnfelder to see you," Kenneth chirped.

"A who?"

"Turnfelder. He said that I should tell you something about an okay face?" Kenneth's eyes turned heavenward, as they always did when he was repeating a message.

"Oh god. Stacy Turnfelder was my talent agent in Chicago. What could he possibly be doing here?" and with that, Liz speed-walked down the hall towards her office, leaving Jack to make his way upstairs alone.  
***  
As Liz opened her office door, she saw the slender silhouette of a tall, muscular man. He, too, was wearing a dark purple sweater.

"Stacy?" Liz asked, surprise in her voice.

"Hi Liz. How've you been?" Stacy had a flat, Chicagoan accent.

"Fine, fine, you look…different. You…"

"Lost weight and took control of my body hair? Yeah, it had to happen sometime, right?"

Liz was staring at Stacy, her head tilted, her eyes glazed. Then she snapped her head back up, collecting herself.

"So, what brings you to New York?"

"Well," he put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Well, to be honest, you, Liz."

"Me? Do I owe you money?"

"Hah, no, Liz, I just, well, I realized, you're it."

"It what? What it? What?"

"You're it for me—you were the one that made me realize I wanted to be more, a better man." Stacy rushed in and kissed Liz, as she stood with eyes open, shock on her face.  
***  
"Pete, I don't know what to do. He came to New York for me." Liz and Pete were walking quickly through the halls of TGS.

"Isn't this the same guy who charged you forty-five percent to book you in local commercials?"

"Yes, well, commercial, just the one."

"Okay. Well, why not go out with him?"

"You honestly think I should start a relationship with this guy?"

"No, I think you should go on a date with him so that your usual self-sabotaging tendencies will just work their magic, and things will stay the way they are."

"Huh." And with that, Liz and Pete went down separate corridors.  
***  
Liz slumped on her couch with a sandwich in her hand, staring at her television set with a vaguely haunted expression. It was clear that she was thinking about what to do about Stacy. Then came a rap on the door.

"Lemon, let's go." It was Jack's husky baritone that came through.

"Flurg!" Lemon groaned as she rushed to open the door. "Jack, I'm so sorry."

"About your fashion sense? It's to be expected. I brought a stylist with me to make you presentable. Manny, Liz Lemon." And with that, a bronzed god stepped forward, raising one perfectly plucked judgmental eyebrow in Liz's direction.

"Well. I'll see what I can do Mr. Donaghy." With that, Manny pulled a pair of shiny tweezers from the pocket of his tight black vest and began to approach Liz.

Liz put her hands out in front of her and said, "Now. Wait. Manny, thanks for coming all this way, but you should leave."

Manny didn't move.

"Now."

And so, Manny turned on his heel and walked out of Liz's apartment.

"What was that all about?" Jack queried.

"Jack, I can't go to the benefit tonight. I'm so sorry. I just, I have something I'm trying to figure out, and I can't do that and talk about the Third Heat and be charming and not make fun of Republicans all at once. It's just too much."

"Lemon, calm down. You've gone to these things with me before." Jack placed his warm hands on Liz's shoulders.

"It's just…with Stacy coming back, and he looked so good, and he smelled nice, like salami on a summer afternoon, but even with all that, I didn't want him. I didn't want to kiss him. I wanted to—" Liz looked up into Jack's eyes, "I wanted to—"

"Oh, for heaven's sake Lemon," Jack muttered with a smile and tilted his head down, pressing his lips against Liz's. This time, Liz's eyes closed, and her body leaned into Jack's.

"You know, if I'd known that you could kiss like a woman underneath these men's clothes, I would have done this a long time ago."

"Shut up, Jack." Liz said, smirking.

She took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his, and they kissed their way to her bedroom.


End file.
